


Stay, I Pray You

by MiraculouslySurvived



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Inspired by Anastasia (The Musical), Some angst, set somewhere during the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 09:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15482760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraculouslySurvived/pseuds/MiraculouslySurvived
Summary: Victor's departure from St. Petersburg, Russia to Helsinki, Finland has arrived. It's time to desert the place he calls home in exchange for peace.If only his heart could leave without the pain of abandoning everything he loves.





	Stay, I Pray You

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I am left alone with access to the song, "Stay, I Pray You" from the musical, Anastasia and a laptop.
> 
> Enjoy~

“The next train departing St.Petersburg to Helsinki will leave in fifteen minutes.” An announcer belts out.

_How can I desert you…_

It was currently five minutes past noon.

The day was bright and cold.

Sharp and glaring.

Snow was falling lightly from the snow, covering everything in sight with dainty frozen powder.

It gleamed brilliantly in the sun. Sparkling.

The wind whipped around the train station.

His long silver hair escaped from its confines, moving around frantically.

Others were dressed in dull colors. Brown, grey, black, and beige.

Some were families crowded around a bench or corner by the wall, sorrow faces and watery smiles painted on their faces.

_We have shed our tears_

Others were fragments of a family, tears quietly building up in their eyes. They blinked rapidly, trying to hide the salty sign of weakness. Some were stony-faced, staring at what only they can see.

Lone figures were quietly standing, numb and bitter from their tortured pasts.

_And shared our sorrows, though the scars remain_

The building was different shades of black and white.

Monotone.

Blue eyes absorbed the scene around him.

“Vitya, it’s time. Get ready to board the train.”

A gruff voice from behind him said.

Broken thoughts. Shattered by a voice.

“Can...please...I need to say goodbye first.”

He turned to face the older man, his eyes unwilling turning glassy.

“Please...Yakov.”

_Let me have a moment…_

Yakov, his mentor, the closest he has as a father.

When neglected and alone at the tender age of three, he was the one to have dried his tears.

The one who taught him how to behave and scolded him into a chivalrous man of honor. The one who gave him sweets he snatched from the kitchens in secret and a cup of tea in the late afternoon.

The one who read Yura stories of dashing adventurers and their woes of travel while he listened along, with a smile on his face.

The one who made him laugh when he was feeling down.

The one who gruffly hugged him at first but quickly turned it into a warm comforting hug after a couple of moments.

The one who was always there, supporting him.

The one who has never abandoned him.

_You are all I know, you have raised me_

He bowed his head down, silver hair forming a curtain around his face, hiding the glimmers of fragile tears running down his face.

He sniffs.

The man he wishes he could call father quickly closed the gap between them, wrapping him in his arms one last time.

“I’m sorry, Vitya.”

Quiet gasps escaped from his lips as he desperately tried to hold in his sobs.

Flashes of the dense woods he would explore passed through his mind.

The towering mountains containing emerald leaves and a sky above the color of sapphires.

The quiet churning of the small waterfall where the water would hit the river, constantly flowing.

The sleek white of the fields during the winter.

The comforting chaos of a stormy sea crashing upon the shores he had grown up on.

The picturesque valleys in the months when the leaves would be painted in fiery reds, warm oranges, deep purples, and golden yellows.

The glow of the clear lights in the shops and residencies that would run along the crowded streets of the city.

A tantalizing smell wafting through the air of sweet pastries and fluffy bread being freshly baked in the mornings.

A small blonde boy with green vibrant eyes pointing excitedly at a stand selling piroshki.

A nearby bird chirping a sweet tune from a nearby tree, blessing any nearby listeners with its pure song.

_Harsh and sweet and bitter to leave it all_

Ten minutes pass.

The announcer warns them that there are only five minutes left.

He burrows his head into Yakov’s shoulder, clinging to his mentor.

The older man holds him tighter in the embrace.

He hears a small sniff from him, breaking the rough exterior his mentor had carefully constructed for this day.

Tears gently fall from both of their eyes.

_Let me say goodbye…_

Too soon, Yakov lets him go, eyes puffy and red from crying.

He assumes his own eyes look the same.

“It’s time to go, isn’t it Yakov?”

_Stay, I pray you_

“I’m afraid so.”

Silence engulfs them. Sorrow remains at their side, persistent to stay.

Quickly, he hugs Yakov once more. “I’ll miss you. Don’t forget about me.”

A small smile cracks through his grim exterior.

“I don’t think that’s possible Vitya.”

His face spreads into a meek heart shaped grin.

“Tell Yura that I’ll also miss him. And that a certain someone named Victor loves his little brother whether he likes it or not.” Yakov pauses for a moment at the word, brother.

The older man has his mouth open, ready to speak and then closes it before opening it again.

“Vitya, I...you are like a son to me, I know how hard it is these days but please do try to be safe. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lost you. Promise me you’ll be careful, for me and Yura.”

Blue eyes widen. Tears fill up once again.

“I promise you that..I...w-will remain safe. For you and our little Yura.”

A nearby bell warns them.

It’s time for him to leave behind his world and a piece of his heart.

Quietly, he whispers. “I love you, Yakov. T-thank you for everything.”

His mentor’s response is just as quiet. “I love you, too, my son.”

They embrace for the last time.

And slowly, he walks away, silver hair billowing behind him.

After that, everything is a blur.

A suffocating pain in his heart.

Sitting on a train, leaving behind the despair and joys of his home.

Blankly looking out the window, his blue eyes darken and become empty.

Numb.

He watches the landscape of his home rush past him.

Everything is dull.

Yet it is bright all the same.

_I’ll bless my homeland...till I die_


End file.
